


You can hear it in the silence.

by mystar1117



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Choi San is Whipped, Choi San-centric, Deaf Character, Disabled Character, Domestic Violence, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jung Wooyoung is Whipped, M/M, Mutual Pining, My First Fanfic, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma, Walks On The Beach, might include other ships later, they cuddle a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystar1117/pseuds/mystar1117
Summary: Sometimes, Wooyoung could go a day or two without his brain fogging and feeling the urge to scream and hide. On his worst days, he'd walk back home from school with tears running down his cheeks, and on rainy days, he'd run to escape the deafening sound of raindrops hitting the ground, reminding him of his beating heart.The only direction San was pulled in by the tide was down, and when he was on the ocean's floor, he'd look up for his mother to shake the sand off his scraped knees and reassure him that he had enough time to come up before he'd start suffocating.Wooyoung suffers from a highly debilitating, rare hearing disorder. San is deaf. But what if they're not too different from each other?
Relationships: Choi San & Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 48
Kudos: 185





	1. pink noise

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic on ao3!  
> english isn't my mother tongue but i'm trying my best so please tell me if you notice any mistakes!
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated <3

Wooyoung is tired.

He cries, his earphones blasting a tune he knows by heart. His ears feel like they'd bleed out at any second but keeping the buds in prevents the other sounds from coming in and the viscous red liquid to spill out and splatter all over his bed sheets, so he keeps them in. Even if it hurts.

The pillow over his head serves as a shield from the outside world. From the many sounds that cause his brain to fog and his ears to ring. 

He doesn't remember when exactly it started, but he does remember this one time when he was nine, his brother was setting the table and his mom taking out the roasted chicken and potatoes from the oven. 

The memory still causes him to cringe because it's still so vivid, and it terrifies him. He heard the cutlery clinking between his brother's tiny fingers, the sound of a potato's skin being ripped off. 

He heard every word his mom had whispered to herself and how she had complained about the chicken staying in the oven for too long, he heard the chicken sizzle softly. The sound of autumn leaves hitting the ground. The neighbours' cat meowing in their garden and the almost inaudible sound of traffic, a few blocks away, rang in his ears. 

Wooyoung was too excited to sleep that night, too busy listening to the sounds of the world. Just like the superheroes he admired, he had a superpower.

He'd always been a happy child. He was obnoxious and honestly tiring to be around because he was always so energetic, yet he enjoyed silence. Despite the universe's way of turning its back on him, he'd figured there had to be a place for him somewhere quiet, where he'd be able to play in peace.

Unfortunately, he was eleven when he realized superpowers were not a thing. He hadn't told anyone before that because he was scared they'd tell his secret, but now he decided it had to stay a secret because they'd think he was crazy, who would believe him anyway?

Wooyoung was fifteen when he started breaking down. Sometimes, he'd go a day or two without his brain fogging and feeling the urge to scream and hide.

On his worst days, he'd walk back home from school with tears running down his cheeks, and on rainy days, he'd run.

He had tried everything to stop hearing all these things, he'd bought a soundproof headset and locked himself in the attic but even then, he'd still heard the music played on low volume on someone's car radio when they drove down the street with a barely rolled down window. 

He'd hated every second of it, every word he'd heard from his neighbours conversations, even the sound of his own breathing made him wish he could stop it just for a while, or maybe forever.

Wooyoung is a regular seventeen year old boy. Except, he hears everything at once and occasionally throws a fit because the world won't let him take a break.

Wooyoung is desperate, and his coping mechanism -for being so overwhelmed by every sound that he feels like he cant breathe-, is to let the sounds come out. It's like he keeps bottling up the noise until it gets too much. When that happens, wooyoung makes more noise. 

And sometimes when he screams, enraged over something completely frugal such as a bird chirping outside his window, wooyoung can't hear himself scream, he can't hear the constant buzz of the world that's threatening to make him fall into a bottomless pit and watch him twirl into the sounds until he can't take it anymore.

He can't hear his own heart beating, he can't hear the tears rolling down his cheeks, he's pretty sure he's not crying because he's angry at this point but crying because holy shit, he finally can't hear.

He blocks out the sounds of the outside world and drowns in nothingness until he has to breathe again. 

When Wooyoung stops screaming like he's being possessed, and simply stares at the ocean, the waves comes crashing back down on his shore. He's figured, he can't keep them away for long.

What comes next is even worse, though. Wooyoung successfully manages to make himself believe he's gone completely crazy.

Wooyoung lets the waves crash on his shore. They come, each one stronger then the last, and stir up negative feelings and thoughts he thought gone forever, and with only a foot in the tide, he's taken away by the current. He comes back home drenched in salt water and his brother doesn't spare him a single glance. 

Then comes the self loathing and crying until he drifts off to a short sleep, he dreams of a silent world for a second, until the sound of a car passing wakes him up.

He puts on his earphones, plays the same song as always -the only one that doesn't make him lose his mind-, grabs a pillow that he puts over his head and applies pressure, wishing it could swallow him whole. 

The doorbell rings, and a moment later, he hears the voice of a woman he's never met before, conversing with his mom about recently moving to the neighbourhood, introducing herself and her son, a certain deaf boy called Choi San. 

Wooyoung is tired, however, he doesn't fall asleep that night. Instead, he thinks about his new neighbour San, and about how much he wishes he could be him.


	2. white noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she was offered a place in a korean company set in Florida, he urged her to accept the job and they moved within two weeks. It was easy to leave Korea because they didn't have close friends to say goodbye to, or a lot of furniture to pack into boxes.
> 
> San sat in the plane, one hand holding his mother's as the other let go of his past and held onto shiber instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello im back with another chapter <3  
> TW/// sexual assault on a child :( pls dont read this if you find this triggering! 
> 
> i do not know what it actually feels like to be deaf but i've talked to a few people who are and i hope i was able to convey some of their feelings through san's experience  
> its still only setting the backstory but the next chapters will be more interesting!  
> hope you keep an eye out for that uwu 
> 
> comments and kudos are highly appreciated!! pls give some feedback!

When Choi San was born, his mother barely heard his first cry, as deafness was hereditary on her side. However, she could hear better than him. 

Unfortunately, she made the mistake of marrying a man who was loud, too loud. She could almost hear him perfectly when he would yell at her for making him a coffee that was barely warm and wasn't sweet enough. He'd say she wanted to poison him, she loved the thought but she wasn't going to spend the rest of her life in jail because of a man. It wasn't worth it, in fact, the idea of it was almost funny. 

She'd close her eyes as a hard fist would come into contact with her cheekbone and imagined it wasn't happening again. She'd dream of the day he would realize the coffee she gave him was similar to him. Bitter and cold. A drink that hit right in the guts.

San's mother believed her son's disability was a blessing in their situation. This way, he didn't have to suffer, he wasn't forced to listen to him. He could just live a regular child's life without having to worry about what she was going through.

This way, San could sleep at night thinking he was safe in his home while his mother was beaten in the room next to his until she passed out, too tired to take it. He'd never have to hear it.

But that didn’t stop him from seeing it.

He started noticing the stains of blue and purple on his mom's arms and collar when he was ten. She pretended she liked to paint.

It took him a year to realize she didn't own any painting equipment. He asked her about it and she'd started crying. She looked up at him and he saw fear in her eyes. He didn't have to hear her hectic breathing to know she was panicking.

Her soft hands were shaking in his small ones and that's when San knew he had to protect his mother from the monster that slept in her bed.

On one of those nights, his father came home drunk. He kicked the door open and stumbled on his way to the sofa where his son laid soundly asleep.

He grabbed his hair with one hand and his throat in the other. He kept tightening both fists as a young San screamed for help, voice muffled by this disgusting man's mouth.

He was running out of air to breathe. As his fingertips started to lose all feeling ,so did his heart, and he grew utterly more disgusted by the man who contributed to giving him life.

His mom attempted to save him but her husband hit her while San sat mortified. He didn't know how to react. His father abused his mother in front of him and he could only watch. He felt so useless, clueless, not understanding what was happening. His disability often made him feel like that.

This is what led to him to run out the front door with only a torn shirt on, knocking on the neighbours' door, hysterically crying and silently begging for help. They were quick, understood the situation and the police were called.

Later that night, he fell asleep monitoring his mom's heartbeat in the hospital, snuggled in her arms as she softly repeated that they'd be okay.

San is a regular seventeen year old boy now. Except, he wouldn’t hear you unless you shouted right in his ear, but he'd hear merely a whisper.

However, he was too conscious of the blood pulsing in his neck and the fact that he was stuck in his own skin forever. Sometimes, his throat felt too tight and he could imagine his brain inside his head, and everything would feel too real. Or like a dream? He didn't know. That was one of the numerous disadvantages of not being able to hear, you'd get stuck.

San suffers from chronic pain in his hips when he gets anxious. Most of the time, it was at night when he laid in his silent room, imagining his father barging into his room with his mother's head between his hands. He was scared he'd find them again, like he always did, and San wouldn't be able to hear him break though their apartment, his heavy footsteps walking down the hall or his mother screaming for help before she got killed.

He felt like he was constantly put at the risk of his father's disgusting fat hands crawling on his body, burning every inch of skin.

He had this constant pain in both hips most nights, and it felt like he was being burned alive and someone was pressing ice on to his skin simultaneously. It felt like his he was being pulled. His body contorted and stretched into painful positions when in reality he was on his comfortable bed, holding onto shiber for dear life.

His skin felt like it would snap at any second, that blood would gush out and paint his room a vibrant red he'd seen too many times on his mother's skin. The thought terrified him.

While moving so many times seemed like a good thing because they were filled with the hope of being safe, San was also filled with the dread of having to go back to school.

He was a brilliant kid. Sure, it did take him some time to figure just what his teachers were talking about because he couldn't read their lips as fast as they spoke, and it's true that he'd be miss out on some part of the lessons when his teachers would turn their back to him, forgetting about the poor boy. But he'd gotten used to it.

What he couldn't get used to however was the constant stares and numerous altercations he'd have with his classmates making fun of him. He was almost glad he was deaf because even if that was why he was bullied in the first place, at least it allowed him to not hear the whispers and rumours made about him.

He tried to ignore it and did well in most of his classes, convinced the only way he'd keep his mother safe was if he got the best education, to be able to provide for her so she didn't have to work. But what he didn't imagine was that his mom's work would bring them to a safe place.

When she was offered a place in a Korean company set in Florida, he urged her to accept the job and they moved within two weeks. It was easy to leave Seoul because they didn't have close friends to say goodbye to, or a lot of furniture to pack into boxes.

San sat in the plane, one hand holding his mother's as the other let go of his past and held onto shiber instead.

San swore to himself that this time would be the last. His father would never find them now that they left Korea. He'd promised his mom they would be safe.

What were the odds of him moving in right next to a very sensitive (and very pretty) boy, and how many chances were there of falling in love with him? Not many, but it just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u liked it!  
> i'll try uploading the next chapter in a few days if i get inspired to write heehee <3
> 
> thank u for reading and i hope u come back!


	3. blushing boy and shining stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooyoung wondered if he'd ever find someone who would care for him just an ounce of the amount his father did. He didn't believe someone like that existed, and was fine with his dad's love remaining unmatched.
> 
> The seashell was soon dropped in the ocean, and with it went the boy's sadness, as he made a promise to his star that he'll at least try. Always try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm finally back!  
> sorry for disappearing for so long i got busy with school and needed time to sort some stuff out but i'm feeling better now  
> anyways!! hope you enjoy the chapter! i'll try updating small chapters consistently throughout the week from now on  
> hope you'll enjoy <3

June 3rd, 2020. 21:12. Florida. 28°c.

* * *

He's walking down the beach, enjoying the sounds of the waves as they come crashing on the shore.

His bleached blond hair is flowing with the breeze. His pair of vans that's slowly filling up with sand is similar to the state of his eyes with tears.

It's crazy, he had almost forgotten how relaxing it was to hear the ocean whisper secrets no one else could hear but him.

As he picks up an ivory seashell and brings it up to his ear, his eyes brim with tears, and he's reminded of a lullaby he'd so often heard but could barely remember now.

His dad, his star who keeps an eye out for him from above, from every place where his soul resides. In this empty seashell, with the blowing wind, in the depths of the ocean and in every grain of sand, Wooyoung could feel him.

He could hear his words echo in his empty mind, a mind filled with the few memories he had of him, with him. He could hear his voice that sounded so distant, so far away, and maybe sometimes Wooyoung couldn't remember the tone of it, but most of the time, he'd make it up and pretend he didn't forget it.

"You're my little star", he remembered him say. "You're my greatest gift", he heard as the voice got farther away. "I love you, muffin" Wooyoung's heart ached. He could imagine his voice, but he was more worried about forgetting his face, the wrinkles around his eyes when he was the only one laughing at his jokes, the depths and sincerity his eyes held when he told his son how much he was proud of him for doing basically nothing.

Wooyoung wondered if he'd ever find someone who would care for him just an ounce of the amount his father did. He didn't believe someone like that existed, and was fine with his dad's love remaining unmatched.

The seashell was soon dropped in the ocean, and with it went the boy's sadness, as he made a promise to his star, that he'll at least try. Always try.

By the time he was back home, the sun had fully set and the stars were out and shining for the world to see. San sat on his porch, head heavy on his knees, and was startled by the sudden view of two sand covered shoes, signalling a stranger's presence right in front of him.

When he lifted his head up, Wooyoung had already made himself comfortable by his side, and let out a soft giggle at San's confused expression. He thought blonde hair looked really good on him, the way it fell on his pretty brown eyes, how it complimented his fair skin and full lips. He couldn't take his eyes off him.

The older boy looked at him with a questioning gaze and all he could do was offer a warm smile along with his hand to greet his new neighbor. "Wooyoung," he said, observing the raven haired boy's eyes as they followed the shapes his mouth made to end up on his dimple when he smiled.

He never completed the handshake though, and instead took his phone out of his pocket, and while Wooyoung thought he was doing this to snob him, San quickly opened the contacts app and put the phone in his awaiting hand.

The boy typed in his number and saved his own contact as "woo <3" before giving it back. A few seconds later, Wooyoung's phone buzzed in his hand with a notification.

unknown:

i'm san

i know

nice to finally meet you

unknown:

you..know me?

i heard your mom yesterday

unknown:

oh so you know?

yeah i do

unknown:

and you still decided to come talk to me as if there was nothing wrong with me?

well i wanna hang out with you

unknown:

are you joking rn

why would i be?

unknown:

idk... people don't usually suddenly want to be friends with me as soon as they meet me

well i wanted to befriend u ever since i heard ur name

unknown:

that was like......one day ago

and??

now you're my friend u cant sign out

unknown:

thanks

my pleasure :D

unknown:

dont forget to save my number

**SAVE UNKNOWN AS "sani <3" ?**

**_CONFIRM_. DELETE. **

omg :(

sani <3:

what >:(

you're cute

San's cheeks turned bright pink, and it took him a moment to register what the pretty boy sitting awfully close to him had just called him. He got up and mumbled something Wooyoung could barely figure out despite his outstanding hearing capacities. Something that had to do with "sorry," "go," and a lot of stuttering.

i take it back 

you're in _san_ ely cute <3

**read 21:12**

Wooyoung thought it wouldn't hurt to try as he laid in bed, unable to wipe off the shit eating grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading i hope you liked it!! i've decided to upload small chapters like this one from now on because its easier for me to come out with the way i want the story to go  
> i'll (hopefully) be back soon xxx


	4. burning hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as it gets closer, the memories get clearer, there's a spark in its eyes, its teeth are sharp and its expression bitter. San wonders if that was the cause of his pain all along. If he was being eaten alive, relentlessly chewed by his own thoughts and slowly digested, burning because of the acid.
> 
> He's able to make out some of the beast's features in the dark. Standing next to San's bed is his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: brief mention of blood, depiction of a pretador, hinting at child abuse
> 
> had a busy week and wasn't able to upload this earlier, but it's out now!  
> comments and kudos are appreciated  
> enjoy <3

June 3rd, 2020. 01:02. Florida. 25°c.

* * *

There she is.

Dormant during the day, she lays with him when the sun goes down, as if San had promised to hold her until they both fell asleep. But the poor boy never asked for this. 

The pain is all too much.

It's numbing and burning at the same time, as if a tiger's frozen claws are tearing his skin apart.

There's no blood, and it's so confusing, because the boy could swear it hurt like a thousand knives were stabbing his skin.

He tossed and turned around, but she was still here, holding onto him for dear life: after all, this pain needed her victim to exist.

San's mind always escapes from his grasp, and when he can't control what goes in it, he finds it thinking of himself as a canvas.

He'd started off white, clean, before getting stained by other people's saliva as they spat hurtful words to his face.

His father's dirty hands left fingerprints all over the corners and his mom's blood sat in the center of the painting: as a reminder and a promise.

And sometimes, his tears blend with all of that too.

Oftentimes, his mom's soothing embrace manages to keep the painting's image away, but it comes back to haunt him on nights like these, when no one could make the monster crawl back into its cage.

It can appear in his room if he focuses enough on the weird shapes of furniture in the dark.

Next to the creature, he's nothing but a three year old child. 

As much as it gets closer, the memories get clearer, there's a spark in its eyes, its teeth are sharp and its expression bitter. San wonders if that was the cause of his pain all along.

If he was being eaten alive, relentlessly chewed by his own thoughts and slowly digested, burning because of the acid.

He's able to make out some of the beast's features in the dark. Standing next to San's bed is his father.

Before the monster throws itself at him, his fingers run on autopilot and he types out.

hey im sorry for earlier

woo <3:

hi

it's okay

i thought it was cute

eye-

woo <3:

you can't run away now ;)

meanie:(

woo <3:

no u

u obviously don't know me

im very sweet when i want to 

woo <3: 

i need proof or ur a liar

u have to earn my trust first

woo <3: 

ill answer any questions u have

what's something u love about yourself?

woo <3:

i'll contact u to give you an answer in about 3 to 5 working days if that's okay with u

......mood but also i hate this

woo <3:

well i hate that you can relate

just wanna let u know ur wrong x

oop does this mean there's something about me that you love?

woo <3:

no there isn't one

haha jk

woo <3:

there are plenty

aha unless??

woo <3:

kshdjs shut up why aren't u asleep already

im

idk i wasn't sleepy but i am now

woo <3:

is this the effect i have on you😭😭

THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT SJSJFJ

woo <3:

yea sure :(

u should go to bed as well

woo <3:

is this an open invitation to make up for the insult or-

omg i will block u

if u don't sleep rn i will come put u into an eternal sleep you'll be so relaxed u won't wake up ever again

woo <3: 

absolutely sweet. i would love that

how about tomorrow night at my place?

BLOCK THIS NUMBER?

 _ **CONFIR**_ _ **M**_. DECLINE.

___________________

-i hope u didnt

[not delivered]

omg i thought we were JOKING

[not delivered]

you're gonna pay for this sani!! >:(

[not delivered]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!  
> pls leave any comments you have, i need your feedback to see in which direction ill make the story progress!  
> pls keep an eye out for the next chapters  
> xxx


	5. orange cake, grapefruit and lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This disability is a curse, San thinks. Because he's forced to look at wooyoung's lips and it makes him feel weird. Not because he hates it, but because he can't focus. They look like grapefruit, and all San wants is to test if they taste like that, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back!! im trying my best to keep my promise of updating more frequently and i think ive been doing a good job so far?  
> anyways i won't keep you for too long, enjoy the chapter!  
> comment and kudos are appreciated <3

June 4th, 2020. 19:23. Florida. 23°c.

* * *

The door bell rings. Ms Jung's cutting some parsley to put on the plate of cauliflower gratin that just got out of the oven. 

  
Wooyoung gets up from his place on the couch and goes to open the door, he greets their guests with a smirk directed at a specific boy who won't lift his eyes up from the ground.

  
"Thanks for inviting us to dinner!", Ms Choi says, "we brought orange cake for dessert, i hope you like citrus fruits." 

  
"How did you know I love oranges Ms Choi?" wooyoung coos, "i'll put it in the fridge, go make yourself comfortable in the living room, i'll take care of everything so you can have a chat with mom before we get to dinner."

  
"Thank you, and please take my son with you, I'm sure he can put his hands into good use," she nods.

  
Wooyoung almost chokes on his own spit at these words. If San heard that, his brain would probably short circuit, the poor boy seems to be holding onto a thin thread already.

  
Wooyoung goes to hold the older boy's hand, he takes him across the hallway and brings him into the kitchen, and after he tells his mom to go and rest, he's closing the door behind her and blocking out the cheerful greetings and blabbering of their mothers.

  
The boy finally raises his eyes and meets Wooyoung's, it's the first time he sees him under good lightning and he doesn't care if he's staring, he even forgets about the lingering embarrassment he's been feeling since their last conversation because holy shit, Wooyoung is so pretty. 

  
Wooyoung's so pretty, San almost wants to cry. His face looks like it's been engraved in marble by the greatest artists, as if God took his sweet time making him, he looks so gentle.. His skin so smooth, his lips so plump.. Like a cloud San would want to rest on forever.

  
Before he can move, Wooyoung corners him against the door. He's got his back pressed against it and the other boy's hands on both sides of his face, against the wood.

  
Wooyoungs lips are moving, but San cant figure out what exactly he's saying because he's staring up and down wooyoung's neck and collarbones, revealed by the Hawaiian button up shirt he's wearing. His strong arms look like they could hold him if his legs gave out, and it's almost tempting him to try.

  
San's shaking at this point, but it isn't an unpleasant feeling. His legs feel like jelly. Wooyoung shakes his head and gently takes a hold of his cheeks between the palms of his hands. They're so soft, San thinks as he leans instinctively into the touch.

  
"Hey Sani, you keep spacing out. you okay?" he manages to read on Wooyoung's lips.

  
This disability is a curse, San thinks. Because he's forced to look at wooyoung's lips and it makes him feel weird. Not because he hates it, but because he can't focus. They look like grapefruit, and all San wants is to test if they taste like that, too. 

  
If San did it now, what could go wrong? Sure, wooyoung could beat him up and tell the world San tried to kiss him, but wooyoung doesn't seem like that kind of person. In fact, he's not completely oblivious to the hints wooyoung has been dropping but he can't guess if it's purely a joke or if there's some truth behind all of it. 

  
It's better to do it now, San thinks. If he does it now, it won't have as many consequences as it would if he waited more, because there's nothing to lose here. They barely know each other, and if they hate it so much, they can just brush it off and start again as if nothing had happened between them. 

  
But here's the thing, San has been so lost in his own thoughts that he hasn't realized Wooyoung's face getting dangerously close to his, his thumbs rubbing circles on the apple of his cheeks and San wants this moment to last forever. 

  
It's grounding, calming.. almost too calming.. San is afraid he could fall asleep right there, with his eyes closed, patiently waiting for their faces to meet. But soon, the doorknob in the small of his back gets pushed into his skin, and Wooyoung wastes no time in jumping away from him, leaving him confused and moving away from the door as well, trying to hide his pained expression.

  
A head pops up in the crack of the door and Ms Jung's smiley face comes into view, but he can't read her lips from where he's standing so he focuses on Wooyoung's answer: "okay, we're serving dinner right now." 

  
As he sends him an apologetic look, Wooyoung gives him a plate to take to the dining room and before turning back, he caresses San's cheek with the back of his index finger. "We're not done talking." He smiles at him, noticing his cheeks turning red.

  
San's confusion is nothing compared to wooyoung's though. A single question haunts him as they set dishes on the dining table, and when they get to dessert, it's still lingering in the back of his mind. He keeps throwing quick glances to the boy in front of him who's avoiding his gaze but the question remains unanswered. Why didn't he hear his mom's loud, irritating footsteps or her voice as she called his name from the living room? 

  
He's feeling giddy, and it's not because of the orange cake he's just had, but because of the sweet feeling in the pit of his stomach. As if he'd had a glass of freshly pressed lemon juice with a hundred sugar cubes in it, it's as sweet as it is acid. It's burning him up, slowly evaporating with the heat, leaving him thirsty for more. 

  
The lemonade keeps bubbling inside of him, and on a hot summer day like this one, there's nothing Wooyoung wants more than to gulp the whole pitcher down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...any thoughts about what could happen next? do you think it's going too fast? pls leave your opinion in the comments and thank you so much for keeping up with this story!!  
> see you soon <3  
> xx


	6. feels like home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooyoung held him tighter until he calmed down, and even then, he didn't let go.
> 
> Rubbing his back in tiny circles as if to say "No, you won't brush me off this easily." and "I'm here.", because sometimes these words didn't have to be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another chapter! still trying to hold my promise of uploading consistently but i've had writer's block this week and this is what i managed to come up with  
> i hope it's not too bad!  
> kudos and comments appreciated <3  
> enjoy xx

June 5th, 2020. 00:37. Florida. 21°c.

* * *

When dinner comes to an end, Ms Choi and her beloved son stand next to the front door. They're bidding the other mother-and-son couple goodbye, and something in Wooyoung yells at him to ask if San can spend the night.

Before he masters the courage to ask though, San's already signing to his mom and it only takes a few seconds before she nods and interprets the message: San is inviting Wooyoung to sleep over.

*

San's room isn't necessarily small, but as both boys sit next to each other on the bed, it feels as if the elephant in the room is taking up all the space, making them slowly run out of air to breathe.

Or maybe that's just because they're together in this secluded space, with Ms Choi's room on the opposite side of the house and the fact that she's taken our her hearing aid, it's basically as if they were alone.

Already tired because of sleep deprivation, (his mom had woken him up two hours after he had finally fallen asleep, to run errands) Wooyoung suggested that they just laid down, to which the other boy nodded, feeling sick from eating so much in one sitting.

That's how they ended up, Wooyoung next to the wall and ten centimetres away from him, San, closest to the doorway. Hands so close they could almost feel each other's warmth.

Wooyoung suddenly has an idea, he turns his head in the boy's direction, a smile spreading across his face as he observes his peaceful expression. He fervently grabs San's hand, whose eyes fly open from panic and incomprehension. Wooyoung reassures him with a smile and his lips form a word: "feel"

The blonde's hand comes up to cover the raven head's eyes and turn his head back into its original position against his soft pillow. San only panics more, until he feels fingertips tracing over his palm and it sends a warm feeling to the rest of his body through his nervous system.

Wooyoung traces letters.

"F"

"E"

"E"

"L"

"?"

He's repeating each letter two to three times depending on its complexity, and between each one he gently caresses San's palm with his own to mark the passage to the next one.

San feels it. He's feeling it all too much, feeling like crying and as though it's a dream, because no one has ever cared much about communicating with him. About his feelings.

San had always felt left behind.

When his school had decided there was no good enough reason to get him a personal interpreter in class because he could read lips well enough, as if being disabled wasn't enough, he needed to be absolutely clueless to deserve help. What he had to say had never been important, all he was good for was understanding the outside world. No one cared about what was inside and what he had to share. This mindset had stayed with him since then.

When his mom went on trips and left him alone at home to space out and stare at his own shadow on the kitchen floor for a good hour without any reason.

When he used to hang out with people he considered friends, but who only seemed to put him into challenging situations to make a joke out of his disability. Forcing him to order for himself at a drive through to "build his independence" they said, not giving him all the information when it came to their projects because "sorry i forgot to call you", and "you wouldn't hear it anyway", followed by "what a pity you had to be such a retard on top of everything".

But they didn't give him a chance to prove otherwise, wouldn't include him and make him feel normal. They left him wondering what was everything that he apparently had wrong.

He felt out of place, out of this world, and paradoxically, stuck in his own body. San had always felt like he lacked something, and it wasn't just his hearing.. it was something between confidence and courage, maybe both.. or maybe it was more than just that. Maybe it was self love, maybe it was the sense of self and love.

And in moments like these, when his friends' words were simply vile, San wished he could be blind too, so he wouldn't have to see their faces as they contorted into evil, open mouthed, wheezing laughs. And when all of their eyes would fill with tears from laughing so hard, San would try to hold back his own or else he would feel even more pathetic.

San could almost hear them later, when he was holding onto Shiber at night, and he'd pretend that the memory hurt less than the pain all over his body.

San had kept on hanging out with them. He couldn't risk getting stared at even more if he started staying alone and having them become openly aggressive. His relationship with these kids had lasted for so long it was too hard to cut them off, San was trying to protect himself from worse. You'd have to be in his shoes to understand.

The boy's hand that had been covering his eyes was wet with tears, and when he pushed San's hair away from his face, a sob escaped his parted lips, followed by another, and he burst into silent tears. Wooyoung held him close.

He had tried drying his tears with his fingertips but they kept falling from San's closed lids, so he decided to let him cry because he looked like he needed this. The younger pulled the other's head under his chin, putting an arm around his waist and letting him hide in his chest. San was shaking, almost as if he was trying to get Wooyoung to pull away, to push him away unconsciously. He was trying as hard as he possibly could to not let a sound escape his lips and the boy held him tighter until he calmed down, and even then, he didn't let go.

Rubbing his back in tiny circles as if to say "No, you won't brush me off this easily" and "I'm here", because sometimes these words didn't have to be heard.

They could be felt in the way Wooyoung's heart was beating at the rhythm of San's, how they looked like a single body sprawled on bed because their bodies molded perfectly with each other. And that gave San another reason to cry: Wooyoung's embrace feels like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.. how do you like the story's evolution? i'm always worried about things going too slow or too fast but i think things are starting to get real now!
> 
> pls leave your opinion in the comments <3  
> see you soon (hopefully)  
> xx


	7. heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only direction San was pulled in by the tide was down, and when he was on the ocean's floor, he'd look up for his mother to shake the sand off his scraped knees and reassure him that he had enough time to come up to the surface before he'd start suffocating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!   
> sorry if this week's chapter is a bit late, i had writer's block and had so much stuff to do because of the covid-19 outbreak! i hope all of you and your loved ones are fine.
> 
> btw.. i think i have an idea for another work i'll be posting in a few weeks? still not sure about the pairing so i'm looking for recommendations! what are your favorite ships? (doesn't have to be ateez)
> 
> enjoy this chapter!   
> kudos and comments are appreciated <3

June 5th, 2020. 02:11. Florida. 19°c

* * *

There's something frustrating about not being able to hear music, San often finds himself thinking. It seems like it plays such a big role in everyone else's life but all he can hear is silence.

He had always been that one person in movie theatres who didn't cry to sad movies. His mom would say that most of the emotions were felt in the music played during the scene and not the scene itself. "Music makes you feel, but this doesn't mean you can't feel just because you can't hear it, bunny," she had signed before adding "there are different ways to feel, through touch, through smell or just by watching.. But your senses are just receptors, all you need to feel is your heart."

No matter what she said, San couldn't help but wonder if he really had a heart. If he couldn't perceive the world like everyone else, how could he live normally? Would he just roam around with a missing piece to his puzzle forever?

San was amazed to see the power music held over people, how it could bring them together or set harsh boundaries between them.

If he really focused, he could visualize the limit that stood between him and the choir kids as he'd space out into the air separating them. He could read on their lips "we are family" as they sang and when he focused on each and every one.. He realized just how much that was true. Their bodies moved to a rhythm that no one knew better than them, as their lips formed words San couldn't read through thick tears. He wondered if their voices blended together as well as he imagined, if they sang with a single tone or if they harmonized, keeping their singularity but turning into a whole. 

San stood still and they moved as one. 

The walls trembling when the neighbours held a party upstairs were a constant reminder of what he was missing out on. How he'd never be able to be part of such an event, such a movement, such a.. wave. He was nothing but a droplet of sweet water in a sea that moved in unison with the moon. 

The only direction San was pulled in by the tide was down, and when he was on the ocean's floor, he'd look up for his mother to shake the sand off his scraped knees and reassure him that he had enough time to come up to the surface before he'd start suffocating.

He knew the ocean wasn't where he was supposed to be. San was more of a silent, unchanging, dormant stream of water type. More like a lake than a river. But much smaller. A puddle.

San had learned to hold his breath for long periods of time and for different reasons. It started while watching horror movies, but then the horror suddenly wasn't just fiction. He'd made sure to hide it from his mom every time. 

He didn't tell her when his demons made it hard for him to breathe and that he'd end up hiding in the bathtub filled with boiling water, just to see how long they'd survive with him there, without oxygen. When he'd start getting light headed they would usually go away but he had to convince himself he didn't want to disappear like them or else he'd never breathe again. The idea of it was almost funny, he would tell himself he will never be able to breathe without this feeling weighing on his chest.

San didn't tell his mom if monsters were running after him in real life and that he had to hide in dumpsters for them to pass, didn't tell her that he'd be terrified to come out because he couldn't tell if they were still hiding somewhere close, waiting for him. Didn't tell her if the reason he'd get home so late with his face down and a different shirt wasn't because he had stayed at the library after school to study for exams.

He didn't tell her and she didn't ask if anything was wrong because she was busy pretending everything was fine, when really she was struggling with her own demons and monsters.

So for her own sake, San didn't tell her when he had seen the devil himself, ripping her shirt open and sinking his teeth in her neck.

San had learned to hold his breath since he was a child, but nothing could have prepared him to the feeling of Wooyoung's lips brushing against his skin.

He let go of a breath he had been holding for what felt like an eternity as the boy's lips pressed on his forehead. Their pulses synchronized, and if San was moved to tears, it was because he had felt it for the first time in Wooyoung's content sigh against him. He had felt that wave, he rode it from the depths of the ocean he thought he was in only to find out he had been drowning in a small puddle, face down. When he opened his eyes, the other boy's shining orbs reminded him of two burning suns. They held a silent promise San could perfectly hear: No one take you down.

Sweet words were whispered under the moonlight and soft letters were traced on palms until nothing else could be heard but the roaring beats of both boys' hearts. 

As he fell asleep later that night, San could feel Wooyoung's heart pumping blood from where he had his ear pressed against his chest. The boy's hand in his hair was petting him to the rhythm of his own breathing. San realized water could be found elsewhere than in the ocean. And maybe he was okay with being a small droplet of rain falling off a leaf if it meant he'd end up crashing into Wooyoung in the end. Maybe he was okay with causing a storm and flooding everything if it meant Wooyoung could make it all evaporate with a smile. 

When they wake up the next day, the sun's already high up in the sky, and all that's left from last night's events are the lingering feeling of a gentle kiss, hands held tight, and a soft lullaby that San now knows by heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave any comments you have! the support i am getting really warms my heart. thank you for taking your time to read this! 
> 
> i honestly don't know if i will be able to post another chapter this weekend but i'll try my best to not let you wait for too long! 
> 
> dont forget to tell me your favorite ships!  
> stay home, stay safe <3   
> xx


	8. prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to be in charge for once, to control what he let through, to paint his entire existence with bright neon colors to hide the holes in the walls and mend all the places where he had been cracked, where the old paint was starting to wear off. He wanted to wear that mask for once, wear it with pride even if he was shameful. Especially because of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....hi, it's been over a month  
> im sorry for leaving you all like this but online classes used up most of my time and this chapter has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. i was waiting to feel more confident about my writing to post this
> 
> however i passed my exams and graduated from college so you can expect more chapters soon, i hope all of you are staying safe and doing well 💞
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated! <3

  
June 15th, 2020. 23:10. Florida. 18°c

* * *

A summer camp? 

The idea had never crossed San's mind. Given his disability, and the fact that he viewed himself as his mother's bodyguard, he couldn't imagine how a month away from home would be like, and even worse, couldn't fathom the thought of living with strangers for a while. 

However, she had insisted, "you'll be fine, my friend told me the program is very inclusive, teens with disabilities even receive a discount to encourage them to step out of their comfort zone!" She had then added, "maybe you can even make friends who know sign language! How lovely would it be?"

Sure, that sounded amazing, San had never in his entire life met anyone other than his mom who could sign, but he just wanted to stay home. He didn't want to step out of his comfort zone, he didn't have one here. San had just moved here less than two weeks ago and he already had to go? This was so unfair. He craved ice cream, going to the beach and playing videogames with his new and only friend. 

What hadn't really struck his mind yet was that his mother didn't have much friends in Florida yet. Who else could have told her about it if it wasn't someone from the neighbourhood? Even better, it was probably Wooyoung's mom, but San couldn't connect the dots at that time.

His mind was blank as he paced anxiously across the room, holding up the program's flyer in one hand and nervously nibbling at the dead skin around his nails. Maybe things wouldn't be that bad, maybe if he tried socializing with people who understood him, it wouldn't hurt. He could still give it a try, for her sake, and if ever there was a chance that he would want to go home, he would only have to call her. She had promised. 

As he hadn't finished unpacking yet, he decided that since he really had to go, he'd just throw in a few more supplies in his already quite full luggage and call it a day. He couldn't believe his mother had already signed him up for it and paid for his living expenses before telling him. San couldn't really back out now that it was too late. He had promised too.

But how would he tell Wooyoung? Sure he could send him a text saying "I'm so pissed, my mom signed me up to summer camp, I'll be gone for a month starting tomorrow night", or write him a note, but none of these ideas sat well with him as he laid in bed, thinking of how Wooyoung would react. 

  
Would he be mad at him for leaving so soon without hanging out together one last time? Or would he not care and forget about San by the time he got back? San hoped it would be the former thought, because at least it would mean whatever they had meant something to both of them and not only San, who already missed Wooyoung before he had even gone far away.

  
*

  
San did not wake up in the morning. It was three p.m when his tired eyes cracked open. Sunlight was burning his thigh from where his leg had fallen off the edge of his bed. 

A look to his left reminded him that he had forgotten to set his phone under his pillow to buzz when the 10a.m alarm he had activated would go off. It sat on the nightstand, batteries dead. Did this really have to happen today out of all days? San got up in a hurry and noticed the car was gone from the driveway, his mother must've woken him up as she always did before going out and he had fallen back asleep.. 

Wooyoung! Oh, poor San who wanted to take his time and bid farewell to Wooyoung. After washing up, putting a shirt on and going out in a hurry, he realized, horrified, that the Jung's car was also missing.

  
Upon ringing the doorbell, the lack of response gave him the answer he feared the most. No one was home. He wouldn't be able to say goodbye, wouldn't have a chance to analyse the look on Wooyoung's face, to hug him one last time.

  
Just as San turned to go back home, a hand suddenly grabbed his, startling him and making him pull away in a hurry, putting his hand over his heart.

  
Two small crescents dug in his cheeks when Wooyoung came into view, and he couldn't hold back from throwing his arms around his shoulders and burying his face in the side of his neck.

  
As he relished in the smell of lavender emanating from the boy, San's eyes darted over his shoulder and he froze. In the corner of the living room sat an orange suitcase big enough to contain enough clothes and supplies to last for a month. In the neighboring house, if you had gone into the only bedroom on the second floor, somewhere near San's half empty closet, you would have found the exact same suitcase. Both boys were ready to go.

  
*

  
Wooyoung liked to pretend everything was alright, despite his mother being extremely understanding of her only child, he would still act as if the roaring sound of the engines on the driveway a couple of meters away did not irritate him as he sat in bed late at night, alone. He'd learned to lie when he was alone too so that he'd get used to doing it in front of other people. He believed he'd be okay if he just played pretend. He'd always thought of himself as a freak putting up a show, wearing a clown's mask and a colorful costume. Maybe it was a helmet and an armor but he couldn't have known. He had no blade to fight with, and therefore could only run away from the blinding lights, his condition sending all the spectators home. 

His act was always flawed.

  
That's part of why he hadn't told San about it yet, not that he thought he wouldn't believe him, but he didn't want San to see him differently, he wanted to be someone San could rely on without making him worry about his wellbeing all the time. He wanted to be his rock. He wanted to be in charge for once, to control what he let through, to paint his entire existence with bright neon colors to hide the holes in the walls and mend all the places where he had been cracked, where the old paint was starting to wear off. He wanted to wear that mask for once, wear it with pride even if he was shameful. Especially because of that.

Wooyoung's perfect little world had come down crumbling to his feet when he heard about their mothers' plan that had been going on behind their backs. Summer camp implied nature, San would be next to him most of the time with other people around, in nature. With all the sounds and all the chirping and sizzling and talking, he would probably go crazy and wouldn't last for a day. 

The only thing keeping him sane was the thought of San not noticing him freak out, but that sounded way too good to happen. Wooyoung knew there would be no miracles as in the fairy tales he'd read as a child. He wasn't a superhero, but he still had a monster to defeat even if this was real life. Because this was real life.

And maybe for once he didn't want to run away from the light. He wanted to keep it, to be warmed up enough to no longer need his shield, his shell. He wanted to treasure it. It seemed like it was finally here, the light at the end of his journey through this dark tunnel that held the echo of his own hesitant steps. It wasn't terrifying anymore. He only had to reach out to be showered with this light.

He'd put on his attire before pushing through the red curtain to get to the front stage. He needed to keep the spectator entertained enough to want to stay until the end of this everlasting show. He needed to keep that light on him until it'd be too hot to bear under the iron armor - or the woollen costume -. He'd sweat the tears he couldn't cry, and he'd finally be able to step out of the stage and let San see his true colors once he was sure the boy had become so infatuated with him that he wouldn't leave. He needed to be sure San wouldn't be phased by his flaws. 

  
Wooyoung was going to come up with a scenario, and he was aiming for the Oscars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think of Wooyoung's plan?  
> thank you so much for reading this far. please leave any thoughts or ideas in the comments, i appreciate your support so much!!
> 
> stay safe 💞


	9. until we get there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If San is alive, and if they're so different, yet both have been breathing the same air, doesn't it mean that they are one and the same ? Didn't San's simple act of existing prove that Wooyoung was real for he had dived head first into the experience of San ? Wasn't one's experience of the world the only thing that made them fundamentally real ? 
> 
> Wooyoung could tell San was on the way to becoming his world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, this isn't a dream! i finally updated :)  
> sorry for taking so long! i hope all of you are doing great  
> the cb announcement gave me the push i needed to continue this work! i'm so excited  
> i'll try posting more soon but i can't promise that it'll be quick! thanks for still being here and enjoy this chapter!  
> kudos and comments are very appreciated please leave your thoughts! <3

June 16th, 2020. 18:10. Bus Stop. 16°c

* * *

What San hadn't noticed on the program's brochure was the word "Korean" alongside the golden logo for Utopia. Only when their mothers dropped them off at the meeting point did he realize the area was buzzing with teens who looked more familiar to him than the neighborhood's residents. Wooyoung had told him the agency worked on bringing Korean youth together from all over the east coast for a summer camp every year, and this was the second time the boy attended.

  
At the back of the bus buzzing with teens excited for the days to come, both boys closed their eyes as soon as they layed back on their seats, settling for the four hours ride until the bus reached its destination. San had always felt like the entire world stopped existing when he closed his eyes, but for once, the motions of the engine starting and Wooyoung's hot hand on his thigh reminded him that this was real. 

His skin was tingling, his heart beating at a much faster pace then it usually did. He was so happy to be spending his first "free" summer in years with his good friend. He hoped he would get along with some other kids but he knew that even if he didn't, he'd still have Wooyoung. San could almost already shake off the uncomfortable and lingering feeling that remained after he hugged his mother goodbye. This was new, and exciting, and scary, but he wasn't alone. He had Wooyoung, and that sounded more reassuring than having a whole squadron of soldiers with him.

Bringing his focus back to the boy sitting next to him as the bus went off at a comfortable pace, San realized something was wrong. The boy's palm was damp against the fabric of his shorts and Wooyoungs hands had never been sweaty. He looked up with furrowed brows, only to find him hunched over his knees, a shaky hand over his head as if he tried pushing himself down, as the hand cradling San's thigh quickly left the place where it was gently resting to make its way on top of the other.

San leaned forward and put his hand on his back, signaling to the boy that he was worried, he quickly dug out his phone from his back pocket before typing something and bringing it up to Wooyoung's pained face.

"What's wrong?"

Wooyoung simply raised his right thumb and waited for the -what San thought was- nausea to pass while he rubbed circles on his back. He then turned to face the raven head and whispered so that the boy could read on his lips.

"Sorry, motion sickness."

San quickly typed.

"Sleep on my shoulder? Don't stay hunched over when you're nauseated."

Wooyoung should've thought his lie through.

"That's right, thanks."

San watched with concern as Wooyoung untangled his earphones and put them into both of his ears, cringing a little because of what San assumed to be the volume that was too loud. But he didn't see Wooyoung tone it down. Maybe he was trying to drown out the other kids' loud conversations ? Or perhaps he really liked the song he was listening to ? He didn't want to think about it too much.

San welcomed him with a warm smile that crept up his face, turning his eyes into small crescents and carving out two little holes in his cheeks and if the atmosphere wasn't cold because of the air conditioner, Wooyoung could've sworn he was melting. He saw the stars and the sun outside hadn't even set yet.

  
The deafening melody rang in his ears as he pretended to fall asleep. And he almost felt like he could do this. He could let go of the crippling focus on the sounds the tires made against the road, he could drown out the sound of the wind going through the slightly open driver's window. The conversations he overheard did not matter anymore, for he found San in the buzz of the world and the boy didn't look like he was bothered by the static that Wooyoung thought was surrounding him. 

He was becoming a constant reminder to Wooyoung that everything around them was simply noise that he could drown out if he focused enough on his dimples, on his cute habit of fiddling with his fingers, or in the feeling of warmth that came with being around him. 

At least that's what Wooyoung wanted to believe. He was starting to learn to let go of the sounds after they had occurred. He realized they didn't need to keep echoing in his mind, each vibration louder than the previous one, urging him to stay awake and aware of his surroundings or else something terrible would happen. 

And maybe he had learned this behavior as a coping mechanism to remind himself that he was real. What if he was collecting every possible experience happening around him as if it were happening in his damn head because that made him feel like more than just a skeleton covered in meat ? His hearing had been a tool to get him to stay alert in the present moment. It was the source of his consciousness, but what would happen now that San was taking monopoly over all other senses? 

What if every breath, every touch, every look of San in his direction made his insides churn and his skin tingle. Someone was finally seeing him. If San is alive, and if they're so different, yet both have been breathing the same air, doesn't it mean that they are one and the same ? Didn't San's simple act of existing prove that Wooyoung was real for he had dived head first into the experience of San ? Wasn't one's experience of the world the only thing that made them fundamentally real ? 

  
Wooyoung could tell San was on the way to becoming his world. His heart bursted with warmth when he recalled the way San looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and for a second it almost felt too good to be true. He paused the song as he started to drift off to sleep. He was on a cloud. Hand tightly wrapped around his friend's, his breath fanning over San's ear, Wooyoung sent a silent plea to whoever wanted to listen.

He let go.

San hummed a tune he knew by heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you like the way this is going, your feedback is always welcome!!  
> until next time, stay safe!  
> xx


End file.
